This might be because I currently don't really have a life. Also, the word "profusion" does things to me.
Always a love of mine. I go here when I'm in a mood and the only thing for it is to stare at something beautiful.
Another excerpt from the photostream of Chip Phillips. I found him yesterday and I don't have bookmarks on this computer.
I like old buildings, too.
This is horrifying. I am not one who damns the entire church or Catholic church for these scandals, but I most certainly do think that this growing mass of evil in the very heart of the church means something. I most certainly do think that the authorities of the Catholic church need to do something, make some serious changes and not just speak individually to priests who made "mistakes." This has gone far past something that can be treated as an individual issue, or as separate incidents. This is a plague in the church, and they're trying to treat it with Tylenol and Band-aids.
This is also rather unsettling. I don't want to be a fear-monger, and I don't want to spread misinformation, but really? I haven't read the Koran, but some of the points made here freak me out a little. Watch it, though, and tell me whether you know that any of it is false. I want to respect Muslims as brothers and sisters who worship the same god, but this just doesn't seem...godly.
And here's the best link for last. I'm sure I've said all this before, but although I almost certainly fall prey to it from time to time, one of my biggest pet peeves has to do with people using words or citing references that they really know very little about. It's one of the reasons I tend to stay out of political discussions.
One more thing: a poem posted in memoriam of a blogger (friend of one that I follow, a cancer survivor) who very recently passed away just after getting her NED (no evidence of disease). I didn't know her, but I've seen several posts about her. This one was on the front page, posted by a blogger I'm not familiar with.
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I, and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other
That we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes
We enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me,
Let my name be ever the household word that
It always was.
Let it be spoken without effort,
Without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant
It is the same as it ever was
There is absolutely unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am
Out of sight? I am but waiting for you
For an interval
Somewhere very near
Just around the corner .
All is well.
Canon Henry Scott Holland (1847-1918)